entangled affection
by tumblinginksplots
Summary: Kasamatsu can't afford to think about anything but basketball with the fight against toou academy around the corner, and yet his mind is full of none other than the grinning blonde Kise Ryouta. Kise himself has enough on his own plate as he wrestles Kise: with the idea of facing his long time rival Aomine andthe feelings he may be harboring for him. Kasamatsu x kise, Kise x Aomine
1. Chapter 1

(_Author's note: _This takes place around the interhigh game against toou. This will be a multichaptered fic that switches between Kasamatsu and Kise's perspectives. I don't know why I decided to go with kasamatsu's first name in chapter one. Sorry if that weirds you out. As always none of these stunning characters belong to me so credit where credit is due.)

_Kasamatsu:_

They were moving sluggishly, almost as if there was something impeding their movements. They were clumsy and struggling far too hard to even get the basics down, and it pissed Yukio the hell off.

He understood that they'd just finished a volley of intense games for the inter high, but they still should'nt have been this bad, even if they _were _exhausted. This was meant to have been a light excersize to get their hearts pumping – but all it was doing was breaking Yukio's heart.

"Time out guys—just time the hell out!" he shouted, planting his feet firmly in the ground and throwing his voice over his players.

Kise, who was holding the ball, stopped dribbling and threw his eyes over to Yukio as did the rest of the team.

"Yes, cap?" Kise called out, one of his beautiful smiles tugging at his face. But there was something wrong with it. It didn't reach his eyes, "If you were suddenly overcome with the need to tell me how great my ass looks in these shorts, you needn't have stopped the game, because I already know."  
Yeah, there was the usual cheek, and it made Yukio's face flame with color even though he hadn't once thought about said ass today, an accomplishment he was rather proud of but would never admit for obvious reasons, but once again there was something wrong with it. He said it wearily, because it was expected of him, but it seemed to take a lot of effort to force out.

"Shut up Kise. Maybe if you stopped thinking about your own ass instead of the ball for a second you wouldn't be playing like a sack of shit. That goes for the rest of you guys as well—what the hell is up with you?"

But he I already knew what was happening.

Kise was really the problem here. He was the one playing in a weird jagged style that totally didn't match his usual fluid movements. He was all over the place, and the rest of the team had detected it and reacted accordingly. That was the thing about having a generation of miracles member on your team. They were the ace, your trump card, but if something was wrong with them it would take a massive hit on the team's confidence and ability, something he couldn't afford to have in the upcoming match in the interhigh which would definitely be the hardest opponent they had ever faced.

He watched the blonde's golden eyes flicker to the ground, heavy with shame. Which was just another weird thing to add to the pile because Kise almost never let criticism of any sort get to him, never mind a lackluster complaint like the one he'd just made. Something was seriously wrong, and he had to put a stop to it before the team's moral sank any more.

"All right guys, we're all going to switch to shooting practice. I want you guys all over the court and every shot you miss earns you three extra baskets. Keep shooting until you have at least fifteen in a row, GO!"

There were a series of groans in response to his words, but they broke formation and began to position themselves at various shooting points like Kobori went to fetch the baskets of balls. But as Kise went to take his position at the center line, Yukio stopped him.

His hand came down on the other's forearm, causing Kise to shoot a questioning glance up at him, "What's up Sempai?"

There was a reason Yukio never allowed himself to touch the small forward of the team—a rather important reason, and he was now kicking himself for violating the rule he had set for himself a while back. Because when he was holding Kise, it never felt casual, and when the distance between them was so short, it made concentrating on his words inordinately difficult. He quickly released the arm and took a step back.

"Come with me," he said gruffly, pushing himself toward the doors of the gym without turning to make sure the blonde was following him, "I need to talk to you."

He heard him sigh, but his legs began to move and soon they'd both pushed through the double doors to stand in the locker room.

Kise took a seat on one of the benches as Yukio wheeled around to address him.

He had to admit it wasn't only his team's basketball he was thinking of when he'd called Kise over here, a fact that pissed him off. A lot of things pissed him off these days and most of them were related to Kise. He was a senior, and the team's captain, and it was his job to lead them to victory this year no matter what. That should have been the only thing on his mind, but as he took in the shaded look on Kise's face, he knew that wasn't the case.

He groaned slightly and then sank down beside the blonde. Without looking at him, he spoke. "Tell me what's bothering you."

The boy's face jolted up as he took in Yukio's face with surprise. He knew why. It wasn't like him to ask about such things. His usual motto was "whatever it is, stuff it the hell away, cuz there's basketball to play!" But the team had to know that that wasn't the way he always felt. Sure he loved basketball, and the game was his obsession, but his players were the important piece and they would always came first.

"Come on idiot, spit it out already, we don't have all day," he growled and rested his elbows on his thighs.

"It's nothing," the blonde said quickly, looking back down causing his silky blonde hair to fall over his eyes hiding them from view, "Really, I'll get back into it, just give me a few minutes."

Yukio had to link his fingers together in order to prevent himself from reaching over and shaking the dumb bastard. "Do you think I'm stupid?" He cried, glaring at the blonde's head because he refused to raise his eyes, "If you think you can get away with lying to me, you are sorely mistaken, and will regret it. Now tell me before I have to use unorthodox methods to force it out of you!"

His words were barbed and shouted, but that was the way they always sounded. His teammates knew better than to take them at face value. That's probably why Kise raised his head briefly and half quirked a grin, "Unorthodox methods? Now I'm intrigued…"

Yukio forced himself to swallow as he took in the mischievous look that couldn't cover up the beauty of that damn face. Why did he have to have a model on his team? Models didn't belong on basketball teams! It was like the number one rule of basketball or something—he could have sworn he'd seen it in the handbook. And yet here the boy was, better than anyone, and putting them all to shame with that pretty face of his…

"Don't give me your rape face moron, it's seriously creepy," He replied, feeling disgruntled, "I'm serious here, so stop clowning around and talk to me."

He didn't usually push this hard. Kise obviously didn't want to talk about it, and he usually would have dropped it. But there was something in the gold eyes that told him that if he _did _drop it he would regret it for a very long time.

There was silence.

"Kise…" the word came out far more gently than any of his other words today, and it was a far cry from the shout he usually used.

He wasn't sure if it was the name or the gentle tone that did it, but suddenly the blonde's shoulders tensed up tightly and his jaw clacked together.

Yukio wondered if he had angered the boy with his pushing, but then his thoughts about that disappeared as the boy's shoulders began to shake.

"Kise!" he called out more urgently, grabbing the boy's shoulder and forcing him around, "What the hell is it?"

The motion had caused the boy's head to fall back, exposing the face and all its emotions. He looked worried and wretched and far more miserable than Yukio had ever seen him.

Yukio bit his lip and stifled a furious cry. What the hell could make the normally annoyingly carefree forward so out of character? Someone had done this to him, and as he continued to look at the face before him that was already starting to shadow itself once more, he felt a hot flame of anger pierce his stomach. NO One messed with his team and lived to tell about it. He would make sure of it.

"Who is it?" he demanded, shaking the boy's shoulder none too gently. He wouldn't let that face completely close over until he at least had a name. It was the captain's responsibility to take care of his team members in whatever way necessary, but Yukio had to admit that his involvement stemmed from a more personal nature.

Kise looked torn, but as Yukio continued to keep ahold of him, looking at him with a face that promised that he would _not _be letting it go anytime soon, the blonde's barriers seemed to finally break down.

"Aominecchi." He muttered, before moving slightly so that Yukio's hand fell off of him.

The captain felt his hands clench at his sides. He should have known. That stupid bastard.

Aomine Daiki creeped Yukio out immensely. It wasn't the superior attitude or his constant mocking tone. It was the dead look in his eyes that promised that he would take no prisoners.

Yukio couldn't stand to be near the guy, but he didn't really have a choice in the matter considering tomorrow's match against Toou high.

"Listen Kise," Yukio said seriously, "NO, look at me damn it, I need you to listen."

Reluctantly the blonde raised his eyes to meet his.

"I don't care what everyone says about that idiot," he said vehemently, "I don't care whether he thinks he's the ace of the aces or the man who no one can beat. I don't care about his stupid winning streak or the way he sneers down at everyone…okay, maybe that bothers me a little bit—but that's not the point!" he huffed. "Kise, you have to know, you are so much better than him. I don't just mean personality wise or ethics wise or whatever, I mean basketball wise. You are a better player than him Kise. Don't give me that look! I know what I'm saying! You're better. I've seen you in top form. I've seen you when you have that burning look in your eyes. Basketball is your game, but more importantly this is your team now. You left Teiko because there was something wrong with it, but when you came here you found it. Do you know what that was?" he didn't bother waiting for the boy to answer, "It was your team. At Teiko you were just a bunch of Aces holding your own on the court. You all had your job to do and you did them. But here there is no one set job, there is no individual. We are a team and every single person is of utmost importance. And it is here that you hold a position that you didn't there. Here you are so much more valued. Here you are treasured, and not just because you're so talented, damn it, but because you are the core of our team, and we will all go down to defend you when necessary. You can go up against him tomorrow with confidence because you are holding too much in your hands to back down. So Aomine has talent, and so what if that talent is more than other people's, you have something so much more important than he does. You have us."

Yukio ground to a halt, some part of him realizing that he was spouting the sappiest crap he'd ever uttered in his entire life and it was definitely embarrassing as all get out, but…he couldn't really focus on how big of a fool he'd just made of himself, because Kise had thrown his arms around him in an inescapable embrace.

"Kasamatsu," he breathed into his shoulder, "Kasamatsu, I—"

The boy shuddered, and Yukio, feeling like he was in a trance, raised his own arms to circle the boy.

"I won't let you down," Kise muttered fiercely, "I don't know how I'll do it, I've never once been able to beat him, but I'll do it. I'll manage it somehow. I'll do it for you and for the team. I promise I'll…"

Yukio pulled back and looked at the boys suddenly determined face. He was always beautiful, but there was something especially breathtaking about the way he looked when his eyes burned fiercely. It was Yukio's favorite way to see him.

"No," He said simply, "Do it for yourself. Do it because you deserve it. Do it because you ache to do it and because you love basketball. Carry the team's thoughts and wishes in your head in order to strengthen you, but don't let that consume you."

The fierceness was somehow unaltered even when a serene smile broke across his face, "Right, that's _your_ job, isn't it captain?"

The boy rose to his feet and headed back toward the door, "You say a lot of smart things sometimes Kasamatsu, but you were wrong on one account."

Yukio raised his eyes to follow the boy, but for some reason he felt stuck in place for a moment. Maybe it was the smile or maybe it was the eyes, but a pit of heat was burning his insides and making it nearly impossible to speak.

"Wrong?" he finally croaked, just as Kise reached the doors.

The boy turned his face to look at him, "I'm not the core of this team," he said jovially, the light back in his eyes, dancing there in a unique rhythm that was all Kise, "You are."

And then he pushed through the doors and let them swing behind him as Yukio sat there and tried to get ahold of himself.

Only Kise could do this to him—rip him apart from the inside with just a single look. It killed him, and it made everything seem so difficult—but also immensely easy.

It was the kind of confusion he'd grown accustomed to this year, ever since the beginning of the fall term when Kise had first waltzed into his life.

The boy chuckled softly as his mind took him back to the moment—back to the first time he set eyes on the model of the generation of miracles…

Yukio dribbled down the court and spun around unseen adversaries as he made his way toward the hoop. The other players were all in his mind, but that didn't make it all any less real to him. He imagined the plays of his opponents and counteracted them with his physical body.

The concrete beneath his feet scratched at his shoes as he screeched to a halt at the side of the court, and brought his body up in a jump shot that had the ball sailing toward the hoop.

He'd felt his finger slip a bit on the ball as he released it, but breathed a sigh of relief when the ball hit the rim and then sank through the net. He had only narrowly missed the clean streak he'd established for himself in the last fifteen minutes.

He hated missing his shots. A feeling of deep revulsion passed through him every time his balls defied his urges to sink through the net. In an actual game it took so much effort just to possess the ball—to waste his teammates' efforts by missing the shot…that was unacceptable.

He'd let them down before and cost them the inter-high championship. He would not be doing so again.

This year would be different. It had to be different.

As he snagged the rebound he began to dribble through unseen players jostling him from the inside. But he hadn't yet made it to a position he could shoot from when he was suddenly interrupted.

"You know you look a bit psycho playing like that by yourself."

Yukio's eyes shot up to acknowledge the grinning blonde at the entrance of the fence that surrounded the outdoor court.

He swiped his hand through the sweat on his forehead and scowled. He was used to comments like that, but he never let them stop him. This time it was a bit different though. The guy was smiling broadly, his face without any antagonism.

For some reason this annoyed the sweaty new captain.

"Thanks for the input jackass, I'll store it away forever," he muttered, and then went back to dribbling, already pushing the man from his mind.

He spun around dodging between two ethereal members in his memory before racing forward to take a shot at the center line. Only when he spun around with the ball raised up in his hands, we was met by the solid body of the blonde boy who'd taunted him.

He blinked in shock. Had he been that focused on the game? It didn't seem possible that the boy could have made it onto the court with him so quickly and unobtrusively, and yet there he was, grinning in all his glory. Though what he was doing there Yukio hadn't a clue.

The boy was dressed in the Kaijo school uniform, though Yukio didn't recognize him. Was he a new student? He certainly looked like a foreigner with that blonde hair and golden eyes. But his language had been that of a native. There was considerable differences between them in the looks department. Yukio had long ago accepted his mediocre effect on the eyes, his spiky black hair and thick bushy eyebrows were usually the first things everyone saw when they looked at him, but this guy…

This guy didn't have a single flaw on him.

He was the most handsome boy Yukio had ever laid eyes on and that made him want to punch him.

"Can't you go be pretty somewhere else?" He snapped, setting glowing angry eyes on the smiling blonde, "I'm trying to play some ball here."

Without altering the glee in his expression, the boy snapped forward with a speed Yukio had rarely seen on the court, and stole the ball from him.

Just like that. His hand whipped forward and smacked the ball from his hand before he could do anything to stop it. He was so surprised that he didn't even move as the boy spun around and made his way down the court. He was so fast and fluid. His movements so easy and practiced it was like flowing water.

But that easy flow didn't disguise the power in those footsteps and the boy soared forward and left the ground, his body and arms arching through the air as he slammed the ball through the net in a dunk that was liquid power.

He twisted in the air as he fell back so that he was facing Yukio as his feet hit the ground in a small thud, and the sly smile on his face showed that he knew all about the effect he'd just had.

Yukio blinked several more times in shock, unable to comprehend what he had just seen.

That wasn't amateur basketball. That was in a totally different league. But how…

The boy wore a Kaijo uniform, but there was no way Yukio couldn't know him. Basketball was his life. If there had been someone who could shoot like that in school he would have known about it. He was sure about that.

"Who the hell are you?" he finally demanded as the boy scooped the ball up in an easy motion and began to dribble once more.

"I'll tell you if you play me," He said cheekily, lobbing the ball at Yukio.

The surprised boy caught it reflexively.

He didn't usually like to be interrupted on the court, but this was something different. Backing down from this wasn't even an option. He had to know.

Even though he was still reeling in shock, Yukio's practiced body settled into familiar motions that he could follow. The ball came down in a dribble and he shot forward.

The boy was on him instantly, seeming to cover him everywhere. Yukio attempted to fake a left crossover, but the boy anticipated it, and as Yukio tried to move forward, the blonde once again reached over and smacked the ball from his hand.

This happened again and again, and nearly always the end result was a dunk made by the blonde boy.

Yukio was amazed. He watched that dunk again and again and still couldn't fathom the power of it and the smooth transition. But it wasn't just dunks he was making. The guy could shoot from anywhere, and no matter where Yukio tried to block him, the boy just shrugged it off and kept moving. He was a power house.

Finally he managed to get in a layup by twisting around the boy at the last moment and shooting the ball up and in. The blonde got the rebound and tore across the court, managing to nearly outpace Yukio even though he was the one dribbling. But the shock didn't really come until they got nearly beneath the hoop. As Yukio attempted to block him, the boy threw him a smile that was full of glinting teeth and amusement, and then he twisted around Yukio and tossed the ball up in a lay up that exactly mirrored the one Yukio had just thrown.

The young captain screeched to a halt as the reality of who was standing in front of him thundered into his head.

He hadn't recognized him at first because this had been the last thing he'd been expecting. The Kaijo uniform and the environment had helped him forget, but now it was all explained, the reason the boy moved so incredibly. The ridiculous level of talent that put the boy at a level far above Yukio's.

He was one of them.

He was one of Teiko's generation of miracles, the group that every high school basketball player in japan knew about.

"Kise Ryouta," Yukio breathed, as he looked up at the body in disbelief.

The blonde merely laughed and tossed him a wink, "Took you long enough."

Kise. This boy was Kise.

The cool arrogance that exuded from his skin had certainly been earned—he had enough talent certainly—but it pissed Yukio off regardless. He didn't care how good the boy was, he wouldn't be talked down to by anybody. As the new captain of Kaijo's basketball, he represented the team, and couldn't take disgrace easily.

He felt his hands clench by his sides.

But the blonde wasn't done. "You must be Kasamatsu Yukio, I recognized you by the abnormally aggressive look in your eye that is far too intense for this early in the day—of course, the uniform helped somewhat."

The ball had bounced toward the edge of the court and rolled until it had hit the fence.

With a jerky twist Yukio turned around and stalked forward to retrieve it. As he did so, he also picked up his school bag and yanked it over one shoulder.

He paused though as he reached the fence, "What are you doing here?" he growled, as he still hadn't figured that one out yet. It was shocking enough to think that Kise had decided to come to a school like his, and not to one of the three kings that held the championship leading basketball teams, but the fact that he was on the court with Yukio seemed even weirder.

Kise stuffed his hands into his pockets, that easy smile still in place as he lounged there casually, "I don't really see anything strange in acquainting yourself with your future basketball captain."

Had Yukio been drinking anything he would have sprayed it across the entire court, "Your _what_?"

Kise's forehead wrinkled somewhat, "I didn't get that wrong, did I? You are Kaijo's team captain Kasamatsu, right?"

Yukio couldn't believe it. Kise Ryouta wanted to join his team. Generation of Miracles Kise had chosen them. It seemed impossible.

"Is this a joke?" Yukio snapped feeling a burst of anger, "Because if so it isn't funny, and it's pathetic how much effort you've put into such an elaborate ruse. I won't stand here and let you mock my team. We may have lost at the championship last year, but underestimating us will be the last thing you ever do."

Kise said nothing. He simply walked toward him with calm easy steps. He scooped his own schoolbag up from where he'd laid it down near the fence without coming to a full stop. Finally as he was passing Yukio he said, "I'll be at the tryouts today and you can decide then if you want this supposed joke on your team, but I can assure you that this is not a ruse."

The smile was on his face, but his eyes no longer carried that playful glint. They only met Yukio's for a second, but the burning inside them was enough to arrest him to a halt.

And then he was past the captain and heading toward the road. He did not look back.

Yukio stared at him disbelievingly for far too many long moments before he finally shook his head, gripped his bag and clenched his teeth angrily as he forced himself into motion. He didn't know what was going on but he was definitely going to find out. If Kise thought he was some lightweight he could push around he would be violently corrected.

But even though his jaw was clenched with incredible tension, beneath his anger he still had the awe singing through his veins.

Kise Ryouta.

He had gotten to play with him.

He'd learned that he was an arrogant teasing dickhead, but there was also a fire burning inside of him, and having seen it he wondered how he could have mistaken the boy for anything but what he was for so long.

And through all the emotions flaring inside of him he could easily recognize the vein of interest that flowed through him. He would unlock this generation of miracles boy—just as soon as he realized what he was really made of.

Yukio got to his feet and headed back to the gym, shaking his head to dislodge the memory.

He had seemed so silly then, getting all crazy and hot blooded over Kise's stupid smiles and taunts.

Those early days of playing with him had been filled with an overwhelming number of tantrums as he lost his cool over and over again and each time Kise had looked back at him with glint in his eye. If he was being honest with himself—which he wasn't because he couldn't handle the truth—he would admit that he lived for that eye glint. But it also tortured him. He would see it randomly in his mind's eye sometimes and it would super mega ultra-freak him out because one dude shouldn't be that obsessed over the eyes of another dude.

But Kise wasn't just another dude, and he never had been.

He groaned softly as he pushed at his stomach, trying to get the weird feeling out of it. It always accompanied thoughts of Kise—well, not always. Sometimes the feeling switched off with the burning pit of warmth somewhere in his lower abdomen. He wasn't sure which one he preferred, they were both pretty awful and needlessly distracting. Sometimes when he looked at Kise the feeling sharpened to a stabbing pain. Whenever that happened he had to excuse himself for a few minutes because he was afraid of what he might do.

Yukio knew that the whole situation was ridiculous and as captain he had no right to be focusing so much mental effort on a single player, but he excused it by using the he's-a-generation-of-miracles card. So far that method had prevented him from having an existential crisis. But he had a feeling that time was ticking out in that regard.

He felt his insides squeeze uncomfortably, causing him to spring into action.

"Right—get back into position! Kobori get back on the inside, you too Hayakawa, I'll be marking Kise in your place."

He stalked forward with all the bravado he could muster. In his mind he knew he was no match for the blonde, but he sure as hell could do his best to make it difficult to get past him.

He nodded toward Takauchi as soon as he saw everyone was in their respective positions, and the coach blew the whistle, launching the renewal of the game. Kise was basically on his own. Sure, he had some of the freshmen and benchwarmers on his side, but all the experienced starters were facing off against him with Yukio. They didn't usually do this. Yukio found it important that Kise get as much experience of working with the starting members as possible so that during games their plays would be flawless, but occasionally they tried it this way—going all out against their ace in order to fire him up and make him even stronger than before.

In terms of size, Kobori was much better suited to marking the well-built blonde, but out of all of them Kasamatsu was the only one with enough speed to have any hope of keeping up.

Kise glanced up and spared him a grin before darting his eyes around the court and moving as necessary. In response Yukio scowled. Kise was far too lighthearted for such a serious game. Sure, he was practicing against his teammates, but tomorrow the one he would be facing off against would be a hell of a player.

Suddenly Kise was racing forward. Defense? Hayakawa had just snagged the rebound (no surprises there—the kid was a total nut and probably the weirdest guy they had, but no one could match him when it came to retrieving rebounds—especially of the offensive variety.)

But they had the ball so what was Kise planning? Why was he running from Kasamatsu, when in all likelihood it was he who would be receiving the ball for a shot at the basket?

It made no sense. It—

Oh.

_That's _why.

Kise feinted to the left but then hooked around Yukio in a movement that was faster than usual. He sprang forward before the captain could get a hand in to block him and…stole the ball.

His hand had shot forward, spearing the ball from Moriyama as the ball left his hand mid dribble—and then it was his.

Kise lunged forward making his way toward his own basket, and the speed was ridiculous.

Yukio sprang after him, but as always, even when he was dribbling, Kise was pretty much too fast to stop.

_Come on legs—move! _Yukio thought as he pushed off the ground and raced after the speeding ace.

As he came up beside him, his mind raced. Would he stop for a jump shot? Continue on in a lay up? Or would he go for one of his signature dunks? It was always such a difficult thing to call because of Kise's flexibility in playing style. He had so many shots and plays in his repertoire thanks to his copy technique, and it was dizzying trying to keep up with it all. Yukio always tried to predict his movements based on the surrounding player's positions, but it was usually more trouble than it was worth. Kise always found a way to surprise him.

"Come on senpai, make me work for it," the blonde teased as he dribbled further, past the center line, making no motion to stop.

A dunk then? It was very possible. Kise always did love the showy power moves. If that was the case Kobori, who was already on the inside was the most adept at stopping it—though that wasn't really saying much. The only one in recent history that had really managed to stop those dunks was that Seirren guy Kagami. Now there was an unwelcome thought…

It was just a tiny moment of distraction. He caught sight of the delighted smile on Kise's face and was blinded for only half a moment. But it was all the opening Kise needed.

He screeched to a halt—seriously, how did you do that when you were moving so fast? Yukio wondered—and pulled into the position for a jump shot far too fast to be considered decent. But there was the generation of miracles for you.

Yukio desperately tried to get his hand up in front of him but it was too late. The ball had already left the blonde's hands and sailed over the court, executing a perfect arc before slamming through the basket in a motion that was all net.

A triumphant cry left the mouths of Kise's temporary team—and even from some of the usual starting members, but Yukio only gritted his teeth as Kise nudged him playfully in the shoulder, "Now now captain—it looks like you're falling asleep. Is it grandpa senpai's naptime already? You'll have to be much faster than that to get the better of me, but I think you already know that."

Yukio gritted his teeth and forced himself to count to ten even as he chased after the unrepentant tease they called their ace.

Kise made more plays—too many to even keep track of, but the scoreboard reflected the difference. It wasn't that they weren't playing well. He, and his fellow upperclassmen were playing well together, forcing tighter passes and faster legwork by the second—but Kise blew past it all. He was like a rocket with unlimited fuel.

As he landed from yet another spectacular dunk and shot Yukio a grin that was 1000% self-congratulatory, the captain's scowl couldn't help twitching a bit into an almost smile, because, dang it, he was kind of cute when he was all power crazy and stuff.

But then a moment later Kise was pushing himself into Yukio's space as the captain accepted a pass from Nakamura. The scowl returned in full force.

Kise pressed even closer as Yukio's eyes shot around the court, looking for any openings.

"No passing, Kasamatsu," Kise purred. His arms reached around him, cutting him off even further, "Just you and me now, no intruders."

Yukio felt a sprinkle of gooseflesh appear across his arm as Kise's hand brushed over it for the briefest moment. Too close. The guy was far too close for comfort.

His mouth went dry. Did Kise really have to stare at him quite that deeply? It was the kind of look that had him fearing for the safety of his thoughts—not that he was thinking of anything weird of course. Definitely not. He only wanted to think of a way to get past the blonde menace—he certainly wasn't interested in the way drops of sweat were slipping down the boy's neck beneath his Jersey, or that blinding grin of his that refused to go away.

Yukio's scowl deepened several thousand times over and with a roar he leapt forward. Fast. Faster than he'd been in a long time. Fast enough that Kise blinked in astonishment.

_Damn it! _he thought _I'm the captain, and a senior to boot. I've been playing this game far longer than this brat, and before him I had the fastest drive this team had ever seen, and it's about time I take back that title!_

But even though his thoughts were so determined, he was still shocked beyond belief when he actually made it past Kise, but he didn't let himself be stunned. If anything, he moved even faster. He charged forth toward his basket. He could do it. He was moving so fast, he could—

The sound of skin slapping against leather was all he heard before the ball shot out of his hands to be scooped up by the grinning blonde, "Tsk tsk sempai, still not nearly fast enough, but it's cute when you try," Kise the most annoying cretin to have ever graced this planet called back as he swiveled around and headed toward the other hoop, steamrolling through all the players that attempted to block his path.

Yukio could only groan in disappointment as Kise leapt up as he reached the basket and slammed the bath through the hoop despite Kobori's forceful hand and all the daggers the captain kept casting at his back.

But of course the disappointment in this case was always weird because it was usually followed by a gleam of pride in his ace—but still—would it kill him to get the better of him sometimes?

Eventually they switched back to regular team play, and Kise settled himself easily into his old role, accepting Yukio's swift passes and assists, but the teasing remained as it always did.

"That scowl gets more terrifying the longer I look at it old man, you might want to ease up before it's permanent…"

"Come on senpai, my dead grandmother could move less sluggishly than that when she was coked out on her meds!"

"Honestly captain, a shot that bad makes me want to weep with despair…"

And on and on and on.

Finally Takauchi signaled the end of practice with a blow of his whistle and the team headed for the locker room. Except Yukio didn't follow them, which wasn't usually surprising—he generally stayed late during practice to keep shooting, but this had just meant to be a warm up exercise. He had to save his stamina for the game tomorrow after all…

But he couldn't help it. More and more these days after playing with Kise he would find himself winding up tighter than a clock spring. It wasn't the actual plays that had him going rigid—in fact the moments the ball would pass between them were usually the most serene. It was Kise's words and touches that had him tensing up like a Greek statue.

Maybe a few shots would help him ease up a bit enough to relax. He could usually bury anything beneath thoughts of basketball if he tried hard enough. Only for some reason it wasn't really working. Kise's stupid grinning blonde head kept invading his head every time the ball left his hand.

Only he wasn't the only one. Now that stupid bastard Aomine was in there as well. It was a regular old reunion for generation of miracles members…come on down to join the party.

His jaw was already radiating with tension, though the gritting of his teeth probably wouldn't be letting up anytime soon. What was up with the two of them anyway? He knew they had some serious competition going on between them—though it could be labeled one sided he supposed. Kise had been trying for god knows how long to trump Aomine in a match—an effort that had yet to bear fruit.

Why did he try so hard against him in particular? What was it about him that set the fire in him like that? Aomine got to him in a way no one else could…

_He never reacts that way around me _Yukio thought as he sank another three pointer _When it comes to Aomine he's totally focused. It's as if the guy's very presence is enough to get the guy's heart pumping. But with me…I'm just someone he likes to tease. I'm not a challenge. There's nothing of me that can keep his attention. I'm no match for that stupid generation of miracles lunkhead—crap._

The next shot he attempted missed rather badly, causing him to swear quite vociferously.

Those thoughts definitely had to go. It wasn't as if he was in competition with Toou's ace player. He was just someone they had to beat tomorrow, nothing more. It was just basketball, he definitely had no interest in the guy otherwise.

Stupid Aomine with his stupid arrogance and tall dark handsomeness. It's not like he was jealous or anything—like hell he'd want to be anything like that moronic, slippery little—

"I don't know how you don't keel over from boredom," a familiar voice called out to him from somewhere behind him, "If I took that many of the same shot in a row I'd have been in a well settled coma by now."

Yukio let the next ball sail through his hands without stopping, delighting inwardly when the shot went in with a cool collected calmness. No way would he be ruffled just because Kise decided to come torture him a bit more. He was a senior, damn it, and way too old to be ruffled by a little teasing from some no good freshman—no matter how talented or pretty or—damn it all to hell!

Yukio swiveled around and glared at the blonde, "Go back to having your Aomine crisis. I preferred sullen angsting Kise over Mr. pompous puffball."

Of course he didn't mean it, but it felt good to say.

Kise didn't take the bait though. Instead he began to step over to Yukio with aching slowness. The captain was surprised that the blonde didn't have theme music playing whenever he moved—he certainly was arrogant enough to arrange such a thing.

"No, I don't think so," Kise said silkily, all hands-in-his-pockets cool, "It's far more fun to torture you."

Yukio felt simultaneous feelings of annoyance and elation. He knew it! Kise _had _been trying to wind him up on purpose—it wasn't all in his head.

"Can't you ever give me a break?" he muttered, bending slightly to retrieve another ball from those in the diminishing basket by his side, "If you haven't noticed there are plenty other victims available on this team…"

"Ah…but your reactions are the best. No one blows their stack quite like you do senpai."

It wouldn't have been as annoying had the blonde not followed up the statements with one of those dang blasted little knowing smirks.

But he couldn't react in the expected manner. No. It was like Moriyama had said. He was just looking for a reaction. If he just chilled out a bit then Kise would leave him alone.

He threw the ball in his hands and watched it bang off the rim before making it in. No good. He was still jangled. For some reason Kise had a preternatural ability to detect his reactions even when he was doing his darndest to cover them.

He heard a soft chuckle beside him.

_Don't turn around. That'll mean losing. It doesn't matter. Just ignore him. Concentrate on the shots. Just concentrate on making them—_

He jolted as though he'd been hit in the face with a rake as Kise's arm snaked itself around his shoulder.

"Kise…" He began warningly as he felt an all too familiar and yet hopelessly painful clenching of his innards at the casual touch, "If you haven't noticed I'm trying to—"

"Be ridiculously adorable as your eyebrows attempt to twist themselves off your face in annoyance? Yeah, I noticed. Still noticing in fact. You're so cute senpai."

That was _it_.

"Damn it Kise!" he roared, letting the ball fall from his hands as he whipped around to smack the taller boy's arm away. But Kise didn't react the way he normally did. Usually he just laughed and danced out of the way of his captain's flailing limbs, but this time he must have been feeling more playful, because instead of backing off he shot forward and grabbed Yukio's outstretched arm. The captain tugged back, but Kise wasn't giving an inch. A brief tug of war ensued, and the situation only got worse. Now the blonde also had an armful of his jersey and the arm was twisted behind his back. Damn the boy's size.

With an almighty wrench Yukio attempted to tear himself free but Kise was having none of it. Instead his body merely followed Yukio's as they both crashed into the ground.

Yukio attempted to roll out from under him, but Kise rolled with him. Soon they were scrambling on the floor like a couple of rodents, turning over and over again neither willing to give an inch.

Kise's laugh turned into grunts of concentration but the grin was still clear on his face. But Yukio didn't have time for angry retorts. He was too busy reveling in the horror of his new situation. Because as annoying as all this was and as infuriating as Kise always managed to be, there was still an awful lot of the blonde's body in contact with his and that was a very bad thing. Incredibly bad because it was making him hot and flustered and his insides were twisting so violently he felt like he might throw up from it.

He struggled desperately, but Kise just took it as even more of a challenge. It was all a game to him of course. It was always a game because he would never take Yukio seriously and because of that…

Suddenly Kise slammed Yukio's hands above his head as he straddled his body with a crow of triumph.

"Ha! Eat dirt senpai! That's what you get from trying to evade the master of everything! I was on the wresting team briefly as you already know. You should have known better than to—"

"Idiot! I wasn't trying to get into a wrestling match with you! Now get the hell off me. Jesus, I can't do anything without it turning into some ridiculous event."

His words were an angry growl, but he was feeling panicked—far more panicked than he usually did around the blonde, because this time something much more sinister had seized control of him.

For whatever stupid reason his penis had decided to take an interest in the proceedings and had already begun to swell beneath his terribly revealing basketball shorts.

_No. no. please no. anything but that. Stay down you idiot. Oh god—_

"Your angry words don't scare me sempai. Just admit how much I outrank you and I'll consider getting off of you—maybe, because I have to admit, you make rather a comfy chair. I should do this more often." 

_No. NO you definitely shouldn't you pretentious asshole!_

Kise was grinning down at him, but Yukio was NOT in the mood to appreciate the twinkle in his eye. Not when the blonde's butt was perilously close to touching his erection. Oh god, if he felt it…

"Get off you stupid prick!" he shouted, squirming desperately beneath him. No good. The boy outweighed him by a significant amount and he definitely had the superior position. Yukio was good and pinned.

Kise merely leaned over even closer and wrinkled his nose, "Pardon me captain, but you're smelling pretty ripe about now. I think you should have hit the showers with the rest of us. I just can't believe the enormity of how sweaty you are. It surpassed the word 'gross' a hell of a long time a—"

"If you hate it so much then get the hell off me!" he howled.

"Nonsense senpai, it would take a lot worse than that in order to—"

Yukio lashed out the instant Kise lifted a single hand to push a hand through his blonde locks. The captain's elbow slammed into his solar plexus, causing the larger boy to double over with a sudden woof of air. Yukio pushed the boy off and scrambled to his feet.

"Damn it Kasamatsu. What the hell is your problem?" The blonde huffed as his arms came over his middle protectively.

But Yukio was already flying toward the locker room "Just leave me alone!" he cried before he went out of earshot. Thankfully the rest of the team had already evacuated the premises, so when he smashed through the locker room door and yanked off his jersey in an angry fit that nearly tore the thing in half, he was alone.

He pulled off the rest of his clothes and stormed into the shower, yanking the dial to nearly the hottest setting, knowing at least that Kise would indeed back off, at least for the time being.

The boy always knew when he'd gone too far, and usually he gave Yukio the room he needed to cool down. Usually. But it wasn't always a sure thing.

He really could come in here at any minute demanding to know why the hell Yukio had exploded so effusively. It was a distinct possibly, so why…

_I'm such an idiot _he groaned inwardly as he took himself into own hand regardless of the myriad voices inside of himself screaming at him to stop.

Of course it was stupid. Phenomenally stupid, and potentially disastrous, but Yukio couldn't stop himself.

Not when Kise's grinning face was the only thing he could see in his mind. Not when he could still feel the imprint of Kise on his body, his skin still tingling nearly painfully at every space the blonde had brushed.

He bit down on a moan as he slumped against the cold shower tile and worked himself with his hand.

Stupid horrible Kise.

What an arrogant bastard.

Such an awful annoying asshole.

Yukio's breath hitched in his throat as he felt those hands on him—a product of only his mind, but with his eyes closed as they were he could almost believe they were real. Kise's hands—smooth and firm, touching him, _caressing _him, making him feel far too—

"_Kise_…" the name was nearly a sob when it left his throat, his semen spilling over his hand in direct testament to his inner shame.

No good. It was no damn good.

No matter how much he tried to push it down and shut him out, the blonde menace still managed to worm his way into the cracks, refusing to leave him—torturing him with that beautiful face and those stupid smiles.

Yukio buried his face in his hands and made no noise at all—utterly defeated as he stood there, too-hot water running over him as he contemplated in the silence around him just how utterly screwed he really was.


	2. Chapter 2

_Kise: _

(end of game)

He couldn't.

It was like he was frozen there.

It wasn't just because his body had given out on him, all strength gone from every one of his muscles—it was far more paralyzing than that.

It was like his mind had shut down. It refused to spit out anything but a faint buzz that was doing a good job of covering up all the background noise. But even if his brain couldn't summon any thoughts, Kise still felt an overwhelming stabbing pain in his stomach that was giving him an imminent urge to upchuck whatever it was he had last eaten. He couldn't remember what it was now. He couldn't remember anything but this current stabbing pain.

But he couldn't just lie there on the ground. That was far too pathetic. Sprawled as he was he was currently only the embodiment of the loser that Aomine had just beaten.

And damn did he feel beaten. He couldn't even feel his own legs.

Nevertheless he planted his palms on the floor and tried to push off of them—to no avail. His slick hands slipped on the smooth surface and he nearly fell flat on his face, he tried again and again, desperately attempting to stand while his legs jerked about uselessly. He was pathetic. So pathetic.

Horrified tears of purest humiliation bit at his eyes. That was it. He had lost.

He had finally come up against Aomine and he had lost. His greatest efforts had been useless and he had let them all down—had let absolutely everyone down and now he had to live with that.

The lump in his throat was threatening to strangle him even as he attempted to draw in quick shallow breaths around it.

It was no good. He was breaking down. He was going to lose it in front of the entire crowd and he didn't even care anymore because he was _that _pathetic. He hated everything in that moment, but nothing more than himself.

The bitterness welled up so large it threatened to consume him, but just then a hand appeared in his field of vision.

A sudden flashback to several years ago. He had seen a hand in that position before, and it had been attached to a grinning Aominechi. He had smiled so much then. He had loved basketball more than anyone. It had been beautiful to look at, almost dazzling. But then of course the light had started to leave his eyes, and as the world failed to provide what he desperately needed—a worthy rival—he began to die inside. And Kise wasn't able to watch that—he couldn't bear to watch the boy he had so long treasured and respected reduced to such internal rubble.

He was so strong, but it was all so pointless. His talent had done nothing for him but give him anguish. It had ruined him.

But no, not ruined. The Aomine of today was bitter, gruff, and impatient, but he was still in there. He had maybe even seen a bit of the old him during the game—when Kise had been at his best. He might have seen….and god was that glimpse tantalizing. He could be swallowed up in moments like that. The boy that was so bright that he paled so much in comparison.

Because he didn't match up, did he? He had lost. He hadn't been strong enough.

All he'd wanted was to become strong enough to stand by his side. It had been a wish he'd wanted for so long and as he'd watched Aomine's internal collapse he had pushed himself even harder, cutting back on the modeling hours and staying late after every practice so that he could get better—good enough to go face to face with Aomine and hold his own.

It had seemed so close, but then he had failed. He couldn't stand with him.

But maybe—maybe soon! If he could convince him to get another shot-!

Kise's eyes shot upward, for one second feeling surging hope as he looked for the boy's eyes—he could do it, ask for it again he—wait.

That wasn't Aominechi's hand.

It was…

Kise's eyes filled with tears until they spilled over onto his cheeks with a startled cry.

It was Kasamatsu.

Crushing guilt. That was the feeling that was steamrolling through his intestines with unrelenting fury.

Once the tears spilled over it was like the dam had been smashed to bits with an enormous wrecking ball, and then there was no stopping it. It was his captain's face that did it. The face that should have held only resentment and disappointment but instead held concern and sympathy.

"Can you stand?" Even his words were soft, gentle even. It was not a voice he had heard very often and that only served to make it more powerful, "Hang in there a moment longer."

No senpai…

Not this…

_Don't you know this hurts so much worse? Shout at me! Get angry like you always do for the things that don't matter! Let me have it—just please. Please not this. Your kindness will kill me. It'll be the wrecking of me…don't…_

But the captain ignored the horror in Kise's eyes, or rather, he didn't ignore it—but looked at it head on and rejected it as if to say that it all didn't matter.

"Senpai I—"

But that was all Kise could manage to let out. There was too much to say, to apologize for, there was no way he could express it properly—all the hurt and anger and disappointment. There was no way to say it and yet as those warm eyes looked at him they seemed to project their understanding. They understood and they forgave.

_But he shouldn't do that! It was so wrong! Everything about the current situation was wrong. This had been all the captain had wanted. This had been his last chance to get it. No one had worked harder than he to get us all here. It had been the only goal in his head. He'd poured his very soul into this. Everything. He'd bet absolutely everything on me. I was supposed to be the ace. I was supposed to—_

Kise's thoughts cut off suddenly, and for a very specific reason.

Warm pressure.

Kasamatsu's fingers wrapped themselves around his shoulders and pulled him up steadily until the blonde's face met his chest. In that moment he could feel the heartbeat thundering in that chest—the game had only just finished, and his captain's heart rate showed just how very hard he had worked for this until the very end.

Kise felt his sacrifice, he felt all those endless hours of practice and every wish Kasamatsu had made in that one moment against his chest. He could feel it in his body, and he could also feel it—his captain's sadness-like a physical thing. It wasn't blaming him, but it was there, and Kise had been the one to cause it.

He wanted to grab hold of his front tightly and scream apologies at him until he passed out, but he knew how useless that would be. It wouldn't change anything. What was done was done. And besides, the warmth he was feeling now—it was perfect. It was the only comforting thing, and he had it now. It wasn't enough. It wouldn't be enough until he fixed it, but it was the best he had.

And then the warmth of his chest was gone, but it was replaced by a strong arm around his waist. Kasamatsu pulled Kise's arm around his shoulders and tugged him close to the lines of his body, supporting him and lending him even more of that warmth. They were both drenched in sweat and probably smelled like a zoo enclosure on a hot day, but it was the best thing.

After steadying him, Kasamatsu began to pull Kise forward. Of course. They still had to do the lineup. He had to face his opponents—Aominnechi—once more. "You did well," the captain said vehemently, resting his hand atop the blonde hair and rubbing vigorously, "besides it's not all over yet. You can pay him back this winter."

The words were strong, and looking up at the strength on his captain's face awed him. Where had he found the resolve to be the strongest one when the blow was the greatest to him of all?

All around him were his other teammates, the others he had let down, and every single one of them looked desperately like they were struggling not to cry. And that's when Kasamatsu's voice called out, "Quit moping! We gave it all we had!" His voice was fierce, the voice of a leader. The voice of his captain. That voice was directed at all of them, lifting them up and giving them strength, "We're still in the country's top eight!"

He said it as though it was something to be proud of, and Kise supposed it was, but it wasn't enough—and it wasn't what his team mates deserved. They had trusted him so much. They had lent him so much of their strength during the match. They had buried all of their hopes in him.

The tears were still flowing freely down Kise's face and the most embarrassing sounds clawed their way up through his throat as they wracked his body, but Kasamatsu continued to carry him, holding him close even as they faced off against Toou and bowed, even though the tears still continued, Kasamatsu held him and he continued to do so all the way back to the locker room.

By that point Kise forced himself back together.

He stared up into the light to stop the tears and swiped at his face as Hayakawa and Kobori attempted to cheer him up. There was heartache on both their faces, but Kobori gave him a gruff one armed hug and in the sincerest voice told him how well he had played.

"It was incredible. I've never seen anything like it in my life. Only you could have managed it of course."

"To be able to copy such a formless style that quickly, and to move with that speed and power…he's right, only our ace could have done it." Moriyama added. He looked directly at Kise as he said it, showing the honestly in his eyes.

Too much. Why did they all—

"Yeah, but the really incredible thing was that rebound I caught towards the end—did you see that? Damn, I almost peed at my own awesomeness. You were looking, right Kise? Come on Kobori, tell them all about it!" Hayakawa shouted, his indoor volume absent as always.

"Tell them what? I only saw an overexcited monkey screaming about some nonsense as he flailed beneath the net."

"What? You're so mean Kobori! What the hell do I even keep you around for?"

"Shouldn't that be my line?"

"Honestly I don't know why I keep any of you around," Kasamatsu shouted, though his heart clearly wasn't into the reprimand. It depressed the living hell out of Kise because if their captain couldn't even manage a halfhearted insult then they were in really bad shape.

They all showered and changed, but Kise lagged behind, his movements jerky and clumsy because of his exhaustion. He had never been this exhausted after a match before. Copying Aomine's movements had taken everything out of him.

Kasamatsu noticed. Of course he noticed. He made it his business as the team captain to notice absolutely everything, so when Kise fumbled with his shoe string for the third time, he found his fingers gently brushed away as Kasamatsu bent over them.

"Let me," was all he said, nimble fingers working quickly to tie tight steady knots on both shoes.

Kise looked at him and ached. If he'd just go and leave him to wallow—pushing his kindness onto him when he didn't deserve it—how was that going to make it feel any better later? But he had to admit that right now it was soothing. Kasamatsu was like a healing balm.

He always had been, Kise realized. The captain was a bandage for the whole team, healing them and bringing them back on their feet no matter what. But that left a serious question—something so obvious that it made Kise wonder just how stupid and selfish he had needed to be not to recognize it earlier—if Kasamatsu shouldered all the burdens and healed all the team members—who the hell was making sure that Kasamatsu himself was okay?

The obvious answer was of course no one.

He was so strong. There had never been a second that Kise had doubted the strength and leadership of his captain. Even as a generation of miracles member he knew that his was an individual strength with a specific talent—but what Kasamatsu did…Kise would never have been able to do that. Not ever.

Despite their heavy belief in Kise, the blonde knew that he wasn't the indispensable member of the team.

But now that powerhouse—their pillar of strength had to be crumbling, even if it was only obvious on the inside. And that was what finally prompted Kise to say something.

His hands came down and stilled the motions of Kasamatsu's fingers.

"Senpai."

He saw the line of his captain's shoulders stiffen and hated that. Was his touch that repulsive right now? He supposed it did make sense…but even so he needed it too much.

He gripped the fingers beneath his tightly. "Senpai I'm so very sorry. I know what I did—or rather, what I failed to do—caused—"

"No."

His voice wasn't loud. In fact, it was barely more than a whisper so that only Kise's ears could pick it up, but despite that it was quite clear.

"You're wrong, Kise. Saying things like 'it's my fault we lost' – that's the worst. It disrespects everyone involved."

Kise felt his eyes widen, but he could do nothing but listen.

Kasamatsu looked up and pierced him with his fierce gaze. "It disrespects your teammates who honestly, worked flawlessly, to get us all hanging in there until the very end. I am so honored to have them on this team. Each of them works harder than any other boys I have ever met. So saying that all the blame lies with you discredits the role they played. It makes it sound like their contribution didn't matter in the slightest."

Kise was horrified. "That's not what I—"

"I know it wasn't, but it's still a notion that needs correcting. And besides," the barest whisper of a smile ghosted his lips, and suddenly the captain actually looked his 17 years. He carried so much, but really he was just a boy like the rest of them. "How can you find fault with a performance more spectacular than any others I've been privileged to see in my entire basketball career?"

Kise's chest pain lanced into his chest. The words spread their warmth through him like wildfire—so that, yes, it was warm, but it also burned him.

Kasamatsu brought his hand up and rested it on Kise's knee, a warm solid presence, and to Kise it suddenly felt that the whole world was isolated in that point of contact.

"You were incredible," Kasamatsu said strongly, "And I am so very proud of you."

No.

That was it.

That was finally it.

Kise's breaking point.

He couldn't handle it anymore.

He stood up abruptly, nearly knocking his captain over with the motion.

His jaw worked uselessly though no sound emerged. The pain was radiating out of his chest now. He had to move—flee—escape from this.

Luckily the team was heading for the doors, and he followed them, leaving behind a damaged Kasamatsu whose fine mask was beginning to crack at the edges.

He would crack then, Kise knew, and that's why he fled. Because he would have only made it worse. He wouldn't have been able to be strong for him, as his captain had done for Kise so many times in the past. He would have broken down at the first sign of Kasamatsu's pain, proving to be only a burden to him in his time of need.

So he fled. The team walked down the hall. Their feet falling onto the wood floors with a snap that was entirely feigned. They were putting on an outward appearance of strength. He appreciated the gesture but it wasn't fooling anybody so the effort was really wasted.

Kasamatsu was conspicuously absent. Kise had dramatically slowed his footsteps to barely above a snail's pace but still his captain didn't show.

Moriyama noticed and put him straight quickly as kise stopped to turn back.

No, he'd said, don't go back.

And Kise knew why.

Because Moriyama knew—in fact, they all knew. They knew because they were senpais too and they had known Kasamatsu for far longer than Kise had.

They knew the captain was falling apart right now and they were giving him that opportunity to have that by himself without the shame of being discovered. But even though he knew that, Kise couldn't help picturing Kasamatsu, alone in the locker room and falling apart with no one to comfort him.

Was he crying? Surely he was crying. The loss had been so much more than Kise's, and he had certainly wept enough to fill the Sahara desert.

Oh god, he thought, Kasamatsu crying.

His senpai in tears.

The thought was nearly impossible to control. He felt his feet skidding to a stop. He couldn't leave him like that.

He wanted to be there, to hold his head on his shoulder and allow him to cling to himself tightly as he murmured reassurances to his captain who, damn it, really needed someone right now.

He didn't know what was right. His insides were screaming at him to turn back—to race toward his neglected captain and give him everything he had left—but Moriyama made him doubt.

Because he didn't want to hurt him even more. He couldn't stomach that option.

So he didn't turn back even though it made him feel like he was tearing off a piece of himself and leaving it behind. He kept walking putting one foot in front of the other until finally they were free of the oppressive place and beneath the afternoon sunshine.


End file.
